


Played WICKED Games Like Hide and Seek

by DracoWinchester7237



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, Multi, Tw ed, tans!newt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoWinchester7237/pseuds/DracoWinchester7237
Summary: Thomas needs to escape, he wasn't expecting to be gone quite so long when he runs into Newt and Minho
Relationships: Gally/Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho/Newt (Maze Runner), Minho/Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho/Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 27





	1. An Introduction, If You Will

**Author's Note:**

> this is a REWRITE of an older fic by the same title I had abandoned a few years ago. i can already tell you this version is going to be much better. 
> 
> as is the case with most writers feedback is my life source so let me know what you think as we go! 
> 
> please also note that this is a very short introduction and not even truly a chapter on it's own, the real chapter one will be coming sooner than you think.

-Newt-

There was nothing particularly special about this place. Nothing special about the town or the people. Nothing special about the shops or the one gas station or the school. Nothing special about the team spirit led by kids who just couldn’t wait for high school to end. Yeah, high school ends, but what’s waiting for you out there? Out in the big scary world. Nothing here mattered when you got to the core of the thing. Nothing here mattered. Nobody here mattered. Nothing was waiting for us out there. Nothing waiting for anybody anywhere. Simple as that.

It wasn’t about what was waiting. It was about what you take for yourself. 

But who bothers to get out there and do anything? They’re all just going about their lives. Living each day exactly as the day before. Following the same boring patterns and risking nothing. 

There’s no story there. No story in the mundane. 

No story in this town. 

The story is about risk about breaking free and grabbing exactly what you want when you bloody well want it. 

That’s the real story. 

And it’s about us. 


	2. Shitstorm of A Prelude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the real start of the story! I sincerely hope you enjoy and please let me know what ya think!

Thomas ran.

His feet barely had time to connect to the ground before he was already pushing himself forward. Faster and faster his feet hit the pavement. Until the ache in his legs faded to the background of his mind and all he could hear was the thud of his heart in his ears and his breath coming in quick sharp huffs. He pushed himself faster still. His eyes focused on some point in front of him that he may never reach but would never stop trying to get to. And so he ran. 

The town was small, the kind of place where everything fit within to streets. All but the school. Thomas could run from one side of town to the other in just under half an hour, so he didn't stop at the gas station or the town sign that still shopped the population of six hundred and eighty-two people. Many times Thomas wondered if that could be accurate by this point. It was a hand-painted number and people were constantly leaving. The population now consisted of people too old to want to leave and kids too young to have a choice. And of course, the parents who thought a small town would be good for their kids to grow up in. Too stubborn to admit how boring their lives have gotten. 

And then there was Thomas. 

Thomas had had dreams of leaving once too, but those dreams were run over long ago. He slowed to a jog about half a mile out of town. The roads were clear, the roads were almost always clear, country roads. Thomas continued to slow his pace until he’d stopped completely, his chest heaving, and he looked out ahead. At that impossible point in front of him that he may never reach. The forever out of reach destination of away. 

He stood there catching his breath and entertaining the idea of ‘just keep going’ when his phone buzzed in his hand. Gally’s name and face lit up the phone. For a moment Thomas couldn’t help but smile at the picture. This was a picture they had taken in the beginning, back when Gally's smile was Thomas’s whole world. Thomas felt warm staring at the picture and for a moment it was easy to pretend that Gally could still make him feel warm at all. A few more vibrations ran up his arm and he declined the call and slid the phone into the bag on his back. 

Thomas turned away from that distant point he’d been fixated on and jogged back into town. 

His lungs still ached and his legs felt ready to give out but he pushed through it, knowing the pain and discomfort would only last as long as he allowed himself to focus on it. And then he was running again, heading back one footfall at a time. 

If his phone had kept ringing a few dozen more times well, it wasn’t like he could feel the vibrations through the thin bag as he ran. 

The sun was steady on its rise by the time he came into the town. It shone brightly ahead of him, threatening to blind him. Thomas kept looking ahead, he didn’t truly need to see, he knew the streets and the two stoplights and exactly where the sidewalk cracked during some rumored earthquake half a century ago. He knew people would be waking up about now, normal people who didn’t spend their time before school or work running a few miles. Men would be leaving, briefcases in hand, kissing their wives goodbye, and heading off to work their 9-5 jobs in the closest city nearly two hours away. Thomas ignored them all and continued his run, which would end on the opposite end of town. In the dirt driveway of the school. 

Only when he saw the red brick building did he slow to a jog. He ignored the main entrance, still deserted this early in the morning, and went around to the side door closest to the gym. He willed his heart rate to slow as he practically fell into the locker room. The best thing about having Track first thing in the morning, he didn’t have to go home to shower, he could do that right here. 

“Did you run here, green bean?” one of the other guys asked, clapping him on the back. Thomas forced what he hoped would look like an easy smile over his shoulder. The thing is, he was in a good mood, starting his morning with a run always made Thomas feel good. And he liked most of the guys on the track team too. He wasn’t particularly close with anyone but they were nice enough guys, even if Thomas didn’t understand some of their nicknames. Like Fry, the boy who’d asked him about running. 

“Yup,” He said, popping the ‘p’ on the end of the word. Yeah, he had started in a good mood. It was sad that a buzzing phone was all it took for his mood to fall. He opened his locker and stashed his school bag, ringing phone and all, into the small space.

Thomas followed Fry and Ben out of the locker room and onto the track. Unsurprisingly Minho was already there and warming up by the starting line. Minho was alright as far as Thomas knew. At least he knew the team captain wasn't an out and out jerk. Thomas sometimes even found himself wanting to get to know Minho, but Thomas didn’t get to know anyone anymore. It was his senior year and Thomas had no friends. He had his boyfriend, though. So that was something. Right?

Thomas’s mood darkened a bit thinking about Gally sitting at home while he stretched and lined up next to the other boys. Already Thomas wanted- no, needed to run again. All he needed was the whistle to ring and he would be off. 

Running track was probably the easiest thing in the world, the coach wasn’t the kind to yell and scream in the name of progress, which is why they got on so well, all Coach cared about was whether or not you were interested in getting better. And since the surrounding big-city schools barely cared about their track teams, meets usually were a formality. 

Each morning consisted of simply running, it was the after school practice where they jumped hurdles or competed for best times. And that wasn’t hard either, not for him. Thomas was easily the second fastest of the group. Noone really minded though, for a group of teenage boys they weren’t aggressively competitive, not like the football team, not like Gally. When someone lost here it was usually met with congratulations and cheers anyway. Thomas supposed they were good guys. 

Thomas always was the first in the showers in early morning track meets. For one he finished second every morning, and by not being the team captain he didn't have to stick around to wait for the others to finish. As nice as the boys seemed, Thomas was always glad not to have to deal with them in the showers. It was just about the only peace Thomas ever got anymore. His five-minute shower after track. 

He was finished and dressed and heading out into the now full school building just as the rest of the team were coming in off the track. 

School never really held much interest for him. It was just a bunch of kids trying to be seen by each other. That's something Gally had shown him back when Thomas was a freshman. ‘Highschool is a show. Classmates were just trying to be the main character in each other's lives.’ back then Thomas hung on every word. 

The kids all wanted attention, the teachers didn't care, and the classes were more common than ‘look both ways before crossing the street’. There was somewhat of a silver lining though, an escape. Not that his life was inherently bad. Just monotonous. For better or for worse in school, his mind was occupied. At least that was the goal. 

More often than not he could make it to lunch before his phone would start blowing up again. Thomas used to think it was cute. It was cute. His boyfriend missed him, what about that was bad exactly? Today the phone hadn’t stopped once since his morning run. And for the second time that morning, Thomas declined the call and tried to convince himself that it was sweet. Three missed calls later and Thomas shut his phone off completely and reveled in the peace it brought. 

Classes were at least a distraction enough, but the hallways between were hell. It was too loud. Like no one could hear themselves think so they just yelled everything across the crowded space and blocked everyone else's thoughts too. Thomas hated it. His only saving grace was his music. An iPod clutched in one hand, the strap of their bag in the other, and both earbuds in and turned all the way up to block out the needless noise around him. He kept his head down watching his feet move through the space. It was the safest way to travel here. It was the easiest way to pretend not to exist. 

If they looked up there was no telling who he’d lock eyes with. 

Like Brenda, the short dark-haired girl whose father was the chief of police and a fast trigger finger for people who looked at his daughter wrong. Okay so he hadn’t ever actually shot anyone but he’d threatened plenty of times.   
  
Or Winston, the boy perpetually in a hoodie despite the school dress code banning such comfort clothing. Who was always ready to sell you something out of the back of his truck that may or may not be dangerous enough to kill you rather than get you high. 

Teressa, his ex, if you counted a relationship that started and ended before puberty, also someone who could not take a hint that yes he was in fact gay. Someone he would avoid at all costs because if she tried to convince him that he could change one more time he might consider it just to get her off his back. 

The final bell was always a relief after the minefield called highschool. Because then there was Track.

More running, and for today's practice, he had a starring role. The entire practice was centered around a race between him and Minho to decide who would lead off in the next meet. Again this was more of a formality, there was no pressure really. No one, including himself, expected the outcome to be any different than what everyone already knew. And everyone already knew Minho would win. Of course, he was. Minho was fast. Just as fast as Thomas. Faster than Thomas. 

Perhaps Thomas could be faster if he worked at it. The thing is though, Thomas didn't work at it. He didn’t need to be the fastest. He didn't want to be the star. He just wanted to run. To be free. 

Running felt like freedom. 

The hand suddenly circling tight around their upper arm as he made his way to the field, however, did not feel like freedom. It did feel familiar. 

“Why don’t you answer your phone?” he sounded concerned with Thomas’s back still turned. He sounded soft and worried. Until Thomas looked at him. The anger in his eyes was strong. But here Gally couldn’t yell, he wasn’t technically allowed to even be on school property without a pass. It was a game. A very familiar game that Gally liked to play. Act like a kicked puppy until he was the one left feeling guilty. Familiar, but it still worked. Thomas still felt like the worst boyfriend, like a mistake. 

“I, I mean, Gally I was- I was in school, I'm not allowed.” He said in a quiet voice, looking down at the ground between their feet. The grip on his arm finally loosened and with it, Thomas allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. “Why are you here, love?” He asked hoping he sounded worried instead of annoyed. This was supposed to be his time. He was supposed to be running by now. And he’d bet almost anything the team was watching this interaction from the track, waiting on him. 

“You were gone for so long baby, let's just go home” Gally sounded pleading. Gally wasn’t asking. Thomas knew Gally wasn’t asking. Knew if he walked away it could end badly. 

“I have practice.” He said pointing behind him. 

“Practice?” Gally asked and Thomas could swear he was acting like he had no idea Thomas was even on the team. Thomas took a step back, Gally’s hand finally dropping from his arm. “What, running? You do that all the time, what could you possibly need to practice?” Gally asked and Thomas took another step back at the same time that Gally tried to grab him again. Thomas became acutely aware of eyes drilling into the back of his head. “We’re going home Thomas” Gally tried to grab Thomas a second time, and a second time Thomas backed away. His head was screaming at him to stop making it worse but he couldn't seem to control his feet anymore. 

“You go home,” Thomas said with a little more force than he even knew he had. 

“Excuse me?” Gally asked 

“Hey, Thomas!” A voice called behind him. Thomas watched the anger slide off of Gally’s face. Most of it. He couldn’t keep it out of his eyes though. And his eyes were angrier than ever. When he turned to look he saw Minho jogging up to them. 

“Is everything okay Thomas?” Minho asked with a quick glance in Gallys direction. 

“Of course, everything is okay Lee Why wouldn’t it be” Gally was using Minho’s last name, and trying to act confused. He stepped up beside Thomas and rested his hand on the small of his back. 

Minho was still looking at him. Waiting for him to answer. As if Gally hadn’t spoken at all. Gally’s hand fisted in the material of Thomas’s shirt. Clearly sending all of his anger there. 

“Yeah Minho, everything’s good I was just-“ 

“Just about to tell you he can’t make it to the track whatever thing” Gally interrupted him and Thomas couldn’t help but stare open-mouthed at his boyfriend. 

“Is that right?” Minho asked, his eyebrows stitching together. It wasn’t until this moment that Thomas ever noticed Minho’s arms. And he only noticed them now because when he clenched his hands into fists his muscles seemed to bludgeon a bit. “You know if you miss it you won’t get to lead the next meet and we all know how bad you want to, you haven’t stopped talking about it for weeks” Minho was lying. Thomas didn’t understand why Minho was lying until Gally spoke again 

“Oh, baby you didn’t tell me this was that practice.” His voice had gone sickly sweet. And it was abundantly clear to Thomas and Minho both that Gally had no idea what he was saying. “Well, shit baby I don’t want to pull you away from that. My thing doesn't matter nearly as much” Thomas realized then that Minho knew exactly how to handle Gally. Or maybe people like Gally. 

Thomas knew what Gally wanted though. He wanted Thomas to say of course his thing mattered. He wanted Thomas to brush it off and go with him anyway. But Minho had given him something here to grab onto. And Thomas was not letting that go. 

“Really?” He asked grinning as wide as he could make himself. “Thanks, babe!” He said and with everything he had, he broke free of Gally’s hold on his shirt and started jogging to the field and away from Gally. Minho, he knew was jogging right behind him. 

“You okay Thomas?” He asked 

“Let’s race,” Thomas said, dropping his bag by the track and walking straight to the starting line, he didn't bother with stretching, he just wanted to run. He needed to run. 

“Are you sure Thomas, we can do this in the morning if you need?” Minho asked because of course, he did. Minho who always won and always led because he was better and faster and cared more. Minho was offering to postpone the race he already had in the bag, because of Gally. 

“No, we're doing this now.” Thomas said looking to the coach who had remained silent up until now “Count it down” 

“Alright,” Minho said, nodding to the coach who counted down from five before blowing the whistle. 

Everything was a blur as soon as Thomas took off. Shooting ahead and taking an early lead. Which didn’t truly matter. Minho built himself up, paced himself like they were taught to do. Started with an easy pace and building speed as the race went on. Thomas didn’t care to do that. He didn’t care that he would lose speed quickly pushing himself like that. All he cared about was running.

Gally was still there, they could feel Gally’s eyes on him somewhere, watching, waiting to take him home. 

Thomas pushed harder, letting himself feel the burning in his legs and his chest. Letting it build and take over, grabbing hold of him. And he held onto it too, as long as he could reveling in the stinging pain of it. Willing it to clear his mind like it always did when he ran. 

But his eyes were stinging for reasons other than the wind resistance. He pumped his arms harder pushing himself more than he ever had before. Desperate to clear his eyes enough to at least see how far ahead Minho was. Just when it reached the point he wanted to give up the runner's high started to take over, and the coach called time. 

Thomas stopped running, much to the relief of his tired limbs and his disappointment that he hadn’t reached the point of going numb fast enough. 

“Where the clunk have you been hiding that, dude?” Thomas blinked himself back into the moment and looked around for Minho, who was still behind him slowing to a jog as he caught up to him on the finish line. 

“Uh..” Thomas was trying to come up with an answer but it hardly mattered. The rest of the team was running onto the track cheering and hollering as they surrounded Thomas. Thomas was really and truly smiling, and he wasn’t upset by the bodies and the voices surrounding him in that moment. 

“Looks like you’re leading the next track meet kid, knew you had it in ya!” The coach called over the heads of the boys still circled around Thomas. “And that's a wrap for today, so hit the showers and head home when you’re ready” 

By the time the group finally broke from around him Thomas was grinning. He hadn't felt that exhilarated since his first run. Minho was grinning at him, the last one still standing around. 

“You wanna run a few more laps with me?” Minho offered stretching his arms over his head and leaning to one side. 

Thomas opened his mouth to say yes, he didn’t want the excitement to fade yet but he remembered Gally standing near the parking lot, waiting for him, and for once Thomas was excited to share something with him. 

“Maybe tomorrow Minho” He called, scooping up his bag and taking off towards Gally. 

“Did you see that? Did you see I won?” Thomas asked, still giddy, he didn’t realize how good it would feel to win. 

“M'' Gally grunted, getting in the run-down truck he was leaning against. Thomas practically skipped to the passenger side. 

“That means I'm going to lead the next track meet” He supplied thinking maybe Gally just didn’t understand what winning meant. It was true that before now Thoams didn’t really care about leading the meet. But that was when Thomas didn't think he would ever beat Minho. He didn’t think he’d ever get that opportunity and now it was his. It was something that was only his. 

“When’s that?” Gally asked parking in their driveway. Thomas blinked in surprise when Gally got out and actually opened his car door for him like he used to. Maybe things really could go back. It was so much like the old Gally. 

“Next week, Friday and Saturday. I would do the first and third run on Friday and then on Saturday I would do the last run as well as the hurdles that I always run.” 

“That’s great babe” and it sounded so genuine combined with the smile on Gally's face that Thomas was beginning to let himself believe it. Gally unlocked their apartment door and Thomas started cleaning up the mess of beer bottles and pizza boxes that always piled up over the weekend. 

“I think you should quit,” Gally said and Thomas almost dropped the bottles. Just like that he deflated. The smile finally dropped from his face like it overstayed its welcome. 

“You Uhm, you want. You think I should... What?” Thomas’s throat was dry and his breath was coming in shallow heaves that he tried to hide by turning away and dropping the bottles one by one by one into the trash. 

“I want you to quit track,” Gally said, flopping onto the couch and turning the tv on. Like the conversation was over. Like they could just leave it at that. 

Quit track. Quit track? Thomas stood in their little kitchen and looked around at the mess left there by Gally. The cases of beer drank by Gally. The pizza crusts left on plates piled in the sink left by Gally. 

Thomas turned on the kitchen faucet and stared as no water came out. He didn’t have to ask why their water had been turned off. 

“Did you go to work today?” He asked around a dry throat. 

“Called in, didn’t want to deal with it,” Gally answered turning the volume on the tv up. 

“You want me to quit track” Thomas whispered too low for Gally to hear. Thomas had been on track since junior high and he was only 3 months from graduating. No way he was going to quit. 

“Water’s off,” Thomas said louder than the tv to which Gally just grunted. “I can’t shower with no water, I'm going back to the school” Thomas announced heading toward the door. 

“No,” Gally said, getting up and meeting him there. 

“Why the hell not?” Thomas asked confused and angry and hurt. 

“I don't like how those boys are with you,” Gally said holding Thomas’s hand in his. 

“Boys? What boys?”

“The track team. They’re so touchy and comfortable with you.” Thomas shrank in on himself a little. Wishing he could just disappear, like that ever worked for him.

“They were just congratulating me on winning, no one has ever beat Minho before, not since Sophomore year when he joined the team” Thomas knew his words didn’t matter. They never did when Gally got like this. 

“Don’t get me started on Minho. I do not like him. The way he seemed so possessive of you, surely you noticed. Like walking up on us like that like we weren’t in the middle of something and he stares at you, watching you, really baby it was creepy. They all need to realize you’re mine” Thomas pushed away the sickening sinking feeling that settled in his gut like lead. 

“Minho does not stare at me” Thomas whispered 

“I know you don’t want to see it Thomas, but it’s clear as day to the rest of us. I just want to keep you safe, and Track isn’t safe anymore.” Thomas let Gally lead him over to the couch. His thoughts were still reeling and he wanted to protest but when he opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, his mouth felt full of cotton. And no words came out, but maybe that was okay. “Besides I shouldn't have to be protecting you all the time, and I shouldn't have to share you anymore. It’s not fair to leave me home for so long without you. It’s just not fair baby.” 

And that was the end of the conversation. 

Gally didn’t go to bed until close to midnight. 

Thomas didn’t go to bed at all. He sat up in their bed and looked for any hint of the man he loved tangled in the sheets. 

He felt sick and he felt tired. Tired of fighting, sick of apologizing for things he had no control of. Tired of giving up and sick of losing. 

He won today. He wasn’t giving that up. What choice did he have left? He couldn’t survive without Gally. 

But he couldn’t handle sleeping in the same bed tonight. He slipped out of the room, walked past the mess in the living room, and slung his bag over both his shoulders before heading into the night air. 

He stood in the driveway looking out onto the street, he picked a direction. And he did the thing he did best. 

Thomas ran. 


	3. The Entirety of the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter three!! this is the chapter that should start looking familiar.   
> .  
> .  
> TW for ED mention

Thomas lost track of time, running until his limbs felt like they were ready to fall off his body. It was that perfect dark that came with the middle of the night. The kind of dark everyone missed due to sleep. The kind of dark that knew all your secrets and promised to keep them. The kind of dark that danced in the light of the moon along with the stars. In time with Thomas’s footsteps. It was a comfortable dark, a familiar dark. A dark that kept a grin on Thomas's face even as his chest ached for less labored inhales. 

Thomas could hardly care, The runner's high was pulsing through him and there was nothing he needed more than this. He would run forever if it kept everything he was avoiding at bay. He would run to the next town and the next after that. He would run to the city even, or the next state over. He would run and he would run and he would run. 

He ran until his legs gave out underneath him. One wrong step and his knees buckled, his feet tangling and he fell onto the ground. For one long moment, Thomas was stunned, laying there face down in the dirt, what little breath he had knocked from his chest. 

Slowly Thomas pushed himself over onto his back and blinked up at the sky. It was beautiful, and sad, and happy and scary all at the same time. Tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes and he didn't fight it. He watched a plane fly, blinking high above him, among the stars and planets going somewhere far better than where he was. Then where he would always be. 

He was stuck. He was alone. He was so so tired. Somewhere in his throat, a sob broke and everything he didn't want to feel, didn’t want to think about started crashing down around him. Everything he kept pushing away, everything he ran to avoid was all right there in center stage in his mind and there was nowhere left to hide from it all. It was all just there now. And so much of it had to do with Gally. Almost all of it had to do with Gally. Not that it was Gally’s fault. Just that Gally seemed to be the center of Thomases world and everything good bad and otherwise was left orbiting around him. 

Thomas threw his arms over his eyes in an attempt to block it all out. He couldn’t say how long he lay there like that, thoughts bouncing around in his head, him pretending he wasn’t thinking them. Pushing them all under some big imaginary rug called denial. 

He laid there a long time, it felt like. 

Long enough that he had started to imagine all of his emotions seeping out of him and into the earth

“You good down there, slinthead?” The voice was startling. Up until now, it had just been the sound of crickets and wind. He didn't move his arms from over his eyes but he couldn’t help a bit of familiarity settling in him. 

  
  


“Fantastic” He answered dryly. 

“Well, whatcha doing?” And it was so casual a question Thomas almost forgot it was the middle of the night. But that was always the way he talked. Casual. The thought crossed Thomases mind and he started to try and figure who this person standing somewhere above him was. As if he didn’t already know. But the knowing didn’t catch up with him yet. It was close just hovering around somewhere in his foggy mind. 

“Running,” Thomas said 

“Really? You're running all the way down there? Is that working for you? Are you getting very far?” Thomas laughed and dropped his arms contemplating the amount of energy it would take to stand up. 

“Fine. I was running” He amended with a smile beginning to play at the corner of his mouth. 

“Uh-huh, then what happened?” 

“I fell” He admitted.

“Well, what were you running from?” He asked, glancing around. Something about the way he held his arms around his middle was so distractingly familiar Thomas forgot to be embarrassed. A million possible answers to his question sprung to Thomases mind. A fight, his boyfriend, his life but nothing seemed like a good enough answer for this almost stranger. 

“Nothing. Just running,” he answered, finally deciding to stand up and brush the dirt off his shirt and the back of his pants. Thomas rolled each of his ankles checking to see if he’d managed to hurt himself. He hadn’t but he already knew that he was just using the moment to stall long enough to try and place where this sense of familiarity was coming from. But now, Standing and really looking at the other boy. It was impossible for him not to know.

“Don’t stress yourself too much Tommy. I didn’t think you’d remember me.” Thomas’s mouth fell open as he took in the way he pulled his hoodie tighter around his slender frame and looked away from him. 

Thomas shut his mouth with a snap as the guilt hit him full force. How could he forget Newt? How was that possible? Thomas knew how it was possible, but he shoved the thoughts away before they could threaten to take over. 

“Holy klunk Newt. you look,” he trailed off, running a shaky hand over his buzzed short hair. Because what could he possibly say at this point? Newt looked beautiful like he always has. But now perhaps Handsome was a better descriptor. He was still skinny, too skinny like he hadn’t eaten in too long like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.  Guilt washed over him in new waves when he realized he probably hadn’t. 

Thomas noticed how much he’d changed in other ways. Of course, he’d always known Newt was Newt and he was a He. but this is the first time Thomas had seen him since well, he guessed since he started T. He looked more like himself than he ever had before. He was still him and he was still so handsome. Always beautifully handsome. 

“Like a ghost? I get that one a lot, either that or a whore. What's your stance on the subject? I'm just dying to know.” Newt’s words were bitter and it startled him. Newt turned back to him meeting his eyes for the first time and Thomas could feel them cut right through him. He took half a step back in slight shock at just how lifeless Newts eyes looked. 

“I was going to say amazing,” he said slightly dumbfounded. 

"Yeah, sure. I gotta say you look like shite." Thomas laughed, it was forced and somewhat empty. He was right after all Thomas knew he looked pretty bad. "Where were you going in such a rush?" Newt's question was the same as before, ‘What were you running from’ He just used different words this time. 

He could have lied, told him he always went on a run at night, that he was just about to head home to his boyfriend. That he was just running to run. He could have said any of that a non-answer to his question that he probably only asked to be polite. It would have ended the conversation, would have led to awkward goodbyes and empty promises to catch up with each other more often. If it had been anyone else standing there with him in the moonlight. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Newt. and he could see him. And there was a sadness in his eyes and Thomas was really, really looking at him. And it was late, maybe he could blame it on a full moon though he didn’t even look to check that the moon was, in fact, full but he didn’t want the conversation to end. He didn’t want to lie. Not here. Not to him, not with the sadness they were both holding onto hanging in the space around them. Not with all this space that never had any right existing between them.

"Nowhere” Thomas whispered. “Anywhere. I just had to get away."Thomas admitted And even if Thomas could come up with some valid reason he’d been sprinting through town at god-only-knows in the morning, even if he did want the conversation to end, even if he did, Newt would have seen through him in a half a second flat. He didn’t ask Newt what he was doing out so late himself. 

  
He looked around at the abandoned streets and the standing still was starting to feel like bricks tied to his feet. He took Newt in and started to walk ignoring his feet protest. Newt walked next to him.

“Yeah me too,” Newt said whisper quiet, not looking at Thomas.

"Good that," Thomas replied. They walked side by side,  the both of them heading exactly nowhere, anywhere, and away, in off and on silence. It was hard to know what to say but that didn’t seem to matter much between them.  It was easy Thomas marveled at just how easy being with Newt was. There were probably a million and one things that could talk about, but it all felt silly, insignificant in the late and early hours. They didn’t need to say anything important. They could joke about nothing and laps back into comfortable silence as easily as they always have. 

After a few silent blocks, it dawned on Thomas how much he truly missed this. It occurred to him that he probably owed Newt the world's biggest apology for up and disappearing on him. Truth be told there were few days that went by where Thomas  _ Didn’t _ feel guilty for how he treated Newt that year, but he never let himself stay on that train of thought for long before throwing himself into whatever he could distract himself with.  So much has happened. So much has passed that they have to wonder truly what could even be said.

Thomas wiped his palms on his shorts and shoved his fists back into his pockets and continued to say nothing real. his thoughts were starting to spiral. Like they always did, thinking about all the ways he messed up. He started walking a little slower, falling a step and then two steps behind Newt. 

But his thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of tires and headlights moving towards him way too fast. No, not him, barreling towards Newt. 

Thomas jumped forward into the path of the car and grabbed for Newt’s arm, pulling him back hard enough for the force to topple them both over, falling into the grass, out of the way of the car. Just in time for the car, a minivan, to jolt to a harsh stop in the middle of the intersection.

“Uhm, thanks..” Newt said and Thomas looked up and Him, where He’d landed, on top of him.

“Yeah, uh, no problem, any, any time” he responded feeling heat flooding his face, and growing uncomfortable being pinned under Newt. 

Luckily he was quick to push himself up, flinching as he did so, just in time for the driver of the vehicle to come running around the minivan to check on them. 

“Oh shite shite klunk shite guys I’m so so sorry is... is anyone hurt??” whoever he was, he was clearly panicked. Thomas groaned, more annoyed than hurt, and pushed Himself up as well. And for the second time, that night brushed the dirt off his pants. 

“Oh, shite Thomas is that you man?” Thomas peered at the driver for about two seconds before he realized who it was. 

“Yeah, geez Minho, if you wanna lead the next meet that bad all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to try to run me down!” Thomas tried to joke. 

“I… I didn’t even see you I swear I was just… just..” Thomas had never seen Minho this frantic. But it was more than just having almost run two of his classmates over. His track captain had always been so calm and level-headed and happy. Thomas glanced at Newt before looking back at Minho and there was a commonality there that was starting to look really obvious. Newt must have seen it too. 

“Just trying to get away?” He said quietly and Thomas watched Minho visibly shrink in on himself looking smaller than Thomas had ever seen him look. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Newt was doing much the same, holding his arms tight over his chest, hugging himself. 

“Yeah,” Minho said “yeah.” 

“Yeah,” Thomas said so quietly he wasn't sure he would be heard. 

“So were we,” Newt said looking at Thomas and meeting his eyes.

The three of them stood there staring at each other, the car still running in the middle of the intersection. The light over the intersection changed from green to yellow and then to red making the street glow under their feet. After a few cycles of this, and an immeasurable amount of time passed something seemed to click. 

They were the same. All of them the same. They were trapped somehow or another and tonight was the night it got to be too much and here they all were. Looking for an escape. Looking for that point in the distance that they could see but never touch. 

“So… let’s getaway” Minho was the one who broke the not completely uncomfortable silence and even though it didn’t, it seemed like the idling car grew louder like it was trying to get all of their attention. 

Thomas looked from Minho to Newt. Newt looked to Thomas and they were both smiling. Nodding in silent simultaneous agreement. They both looked at Minho who was grinning as well. 

“Good that, hop in,” Minho said jogging backward around to the driver’s side of the minivan, jumping in behind the wheel. 

And as if it was the most natural thing in the world he was sliding into the back seat of a minivan with who was practically a stranger given how little Thomas actually knew about Minho, at the wheel. And who was once upon a time his best friend in the whole world but whom he hadn’t so much as talked to in the 4 years before an hour ago, in the passenger seat. And he had nothing to his name but the clothes he was wearing. 

But something about it felt so right. More right than Thomas can remember feeling in a long long time. 

“So what’s the plan?” He asked leaning forward in his seat belt. 

Newt laughed, a real laugh instead of the fake and hollow ones he’d heard so far tonight. 

“Oh Tommy, you never were very good at winging it” 

Thomas blushed lightly but the grin never fell away from his face, only growing wider as they passed the “Welcome to Haven” sign. Population: three less than it was yesterday. And as Thomas was still leaning up between Minho and Newt, looking through the windshield, he could see it. That point on the horizon. The direction he’s been running to. He could see it. And he was going. They all were 

And they were gone. 

And on that night, as the glowing clock on the dash told them it was exactly three in the morning, they could all feel it in the air. Things were going to change. None of them said much, but none of them could keep the smiles from their faces as they drove farther than Thomas had ever gone before. 

And he could feel that he wasn't coming back. At least, not the same way as he left. Thomas wouldn’t mind if he never came back again. 


End file.
